The Road To Doriscus
– Part 9

Xena insisted on lifting and
carrying Gabrielle by herself to the wagon when it arrived, having done all
that she could for her companion’s wounds. She had trimmed the arrow shaft,
leaving only a small portion protruding that she bandaged in place, and
proclaimed the rest of its removal would be delayed until they returned to the
relative security of Adwen’s encampment. The warrior carefully added extra
padding to the Bard’s traumatized extremity, elevated the limb, and then
wrapped Gabrielle in every bedroll and extra blanket that the herdsmen had
returned with.

“How are you doing,“ Xena
asked, fussing with the blankets under Gabrielle’s chin. She looked very small
lying amongst all the bedding and was still far too pale for the warrior’s
liking. Xena dreaded removing the arrow, knowing that the Bard was certain to
lose even more blood.

Xena shook her head in
amazement at the Bard’s ability to remain lighthearted in the direst of
circumstances. “Hang in there. I’ll get you safe and fixed up as soon as I
can,” she murmured.

Adwen approached with their
medical kit and an amphora of wine, proffering them to the warrior.

“I need to mix up something
for you to take, Gabrielle,” Xena said, waiting until the Bard gave her a small
nod of understanding before pulling her hand away.

Adwen handed Xena a packet
of herbs from the kit and the wine. “I’ll drive the wagon and the herdsmen can
take care of the two prisoners,” he said, clearing his throat. “We’ll send
someone back for the bodies.”

Xena took a few steps from
the wagon, eyeing the amount of herbs before dumping a portion into the flask.
She handed the remainder back to her former engineer and sealed the amphora
with her thumb, shaking the contents. “I’m sorry about the merchant,” she said,
gazing at him with genuine regret.

“Gabrielle almost lost her
life because of him!” he exclaimed, stowing the packet away in the Bard’s kit.
“I’m not sorry about anything.”

“According to Gabrielle, he
was trying to defend her, at least in the end.”

Adwen chewed speculatively
at his graying mustache. “’From the Gods who sit in grandeur, grace comes
somehow violent,’” he stated. “Perhaps he was trying to redeem himself in some
way, but that’s of no consequence to us now.”

“It is of consequence. Gabrielle
might well be on the other side right now if it weren’t for him.“

“You’re the one who
prevented that.”

“I certainly couldn’t have if she’d been dead when I
got to her.If it hadn’t been for him, I would have been too late,
again!Just another time that I put her
at grave risk so that I could play hero.That’s hard to live with,” she stated, the self-loathing evident in her
voice.

“You did not put her at
risk, they did and you’ll live with it because you love her,” he said
emphatically. “The risk of loss is always the price of being close to someone
else.”

“If I truly loved her, I’d
send her far away from me and away from such danger,” Xena replied. The fear of
losing Gabrielle forever was almost palpable to the warrior.

Adwen grabbed her elbow and
squeezed, staring at her. “Only a coward runs from the possibility of pain and
that’s what you’d be doing if you ever left her because of such nonsense.”

“Look at her,” Xena cried. “That is what knowing me
has caused.”

“What a load of sheep droppings! Look at the world
around us, Xena. It’s a violent place and from what I’ve heard about the Bard,
she has no problem finding trouble all on her own. I seem to recall her stories
of the Titans and Cecrops. Need I go on?”

Xena looked a little startled but was unable to give
up on her self-flagellation so easily. “But, what about…”

“Don’t even start. It seems that as dangerous as
these times are, the safest place that Gabrielle could be is at your side. If
there is any way in the world that she can be protected and made safe, you’ll
find it because you love her. No one else on earth can do that for her.”

“You don’t understand. There will always be someone…”
Xena tried to explain.

“No, it’s you who doesn’t
understand. Gabrielle would perish without you, not because someone killed her,
but because you would break her heart,” he said. “Is that what you want?”

“No!” the warrior exclaimed.
“Of course not.”

“Then don’t speak of such
things,” he said, looking vehement.

Xena clenched her jaw. “You
don’t know what we’ve been through. What I put her through.”

“You don’t think that I can
understand about losing someone that you love more than life itself?” Adwen
asked, gritting his teeth. “My wife wasn’t mercifully cut down, a casualty of
some battle. I had to watch for months… as some wasting malady ate her alive,
and there was nothing I could do to save her!”

“I’m very sorry,” Xena
stated, regretting her presumptuousness.

“Don’t be. I wouldn’t trade
one moment of the time that I had with Gaia, not even to be relieved of this
sorrow,” he said, taking a deep breath and releasing her elbow. “Now, go care
for Gabrielle and for both your sakes, focus on your many blessings, not on
your near losses.”

The warrior stared at him,
opening her mouth to say something but closing it again because she was unable
to generate the words that would have any meaning when measured against his
enormous loss. She turned away with a furrowed brow to care for her companion.

Adwen watched, awash in his
own tragic memories, as Xena murmured to Gabrielle, helping her to sit up and
swallow a draught of the wine that she’d prepared. After a few moments, he
couldn’t stand to watch them any longer and climbed up onto the driver’s seat
of the wagon, with his back to them. His shoulders shook as he wiped away his
tears, unbeknownst and unnoticed by the others.

xxxxxxx

After more than four
candlemarks, there was still no sign of the rest of their party. Marcellinus
ordered Drusus to go back and find out what had happened. His principal
departed for the riverbank, where it had all begun and, given what he had
discovered there, where it had ended as well. There were four corpses still
lying where they had fallen, an unknown local’s body, Salmakis and two Romans.
Drusus removed his compatriots’ most prized possessions and stowed them with
his own gear, hoping that one day he could deliver the items to their families
back in Rome. He had searched the area, locating the fresh horse and wagon tracks
heading away from the site, and back towards the herdsmen’s encampment. Drusus
took careful note of the copious blood, a severed shaft from an arrow and the
other evidence of combat, but found no signs of the other two Romans. As
difficult as he found it to believe, he concluded that Xena had rescued the
Bard and captured Lucian and Tullius.

When Drusus returned and
informed the Centurion of what he had discovered, Marcellinus stomped his way
around the rock-strewn gully, cursing.

“Are you certain that they
were captured?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of his principal.

“Well, not completely,”
Drusus replied.

“Didn’t I just send you to
find out what had happened?” Marcellinus demanded, his eyes taking on a manic
glint.

Drusus gazed at him warily,
knowing that anything he said would be wrong.

Marcellinus sighed in
exasperation. “We’ll have to track them back to the encampment,” he barked.
“There must be some way to turn this to our advantage.”

“Turn what to our advantage?”
Drusus asked, unable to refrain from saying it aloud. “We’ve lost four men that
we could ill afford to lose. What in Jupiter’s name is there to turn to our
advantage?”

Marcellinus began pacing.
“What about our brother Romans?” he asked heatedly. “I have never left even one
of my men behind on a battlefield and you’re saying that I should leave these
men here as captives in Greece?”

“No,” Drusus said, looking
away and feeling ashamed. Marcellinus’s behavior may have become somewhat
erratic, but he’d been an outstanding commander and spoke the truth. In all the
years that Drusus had served with the Centurion, he had never withdrawn from a
battle and left one legionnaire behind.

As he mounted his steed, the Centurion watched as
Drusus moved to his horse with renewed purpose. Yes, we’ll get our men but
I’m not giving up on the gold or the glory. Dead or alive, Xena and the Bard
will be returned to Rome!

xxxxxxx

Adwen leapt to his feet and
rushed to her side as Xena exited from the tent. She had dark circles under her
eyes and blood up to her elbows, but managed to give her former engineer a
small smile. “You can stop fretting. I got the arrow out and I’m pretty sure
Gabrielle’s going to be all right,” she said.

“Any sign of poison?”

“None,” the warrior replied,
wearily scrubbing her arms with soap over a steaming bucket of water that had
been placed outside for this purpose. She squinted in the torchlight, trying to
locate and remove all the blood and day’s worth of grime from herself.

“Thank the Gods,” he said.
“I plan to sacrifice a bull in thanks for her when we return to my home.”

“You’d make her a lot
happier if you let the bull live for her.”

Adwen managed a faint smile.
“What a dilemma,” he said. “To please the Bard or to please the Gods…”

Xena shook her head with a
frown, scrubbing at her elbow. “Better watch that, if you know what’s good for
ya,” she muttered.

“Can I get you some dinner
or how about something for the Bard?”

“I’m too tired to eat, and I
just dosed Gabrielle up pretty good,” Xena said. “I’m hoping that she’ll be
able to sleep through the night, but you could drop off some soup or something
like that, just in case she doesn’t.”

“That’s it?” Adwen asked,
rubbing absently at his bald head.

“One more thing, make sure
that no one but you comes near this tent, and let us get some rest tonight,”
she replied, rinsing herself with clean water.

He gave her a nod. “I’ll
post sentries.”

“Good sentries,” the warrior
stipulated wryly.

“Of course,” Adwen assured
her.

“We’ll question the
prisoners, first thing in the morning,” Xena said over her shoulder as she walked
to the tent door, still drying herself off with a clean linen.

“I’ll be ready.”

The warrior only waved the
linen exhaustedly, disappearing inside the tent.

xxxxxxx

It
was still dark and the tent only illuminated by the torches outside, when Xena
opened her eyes, knowing already that something, somewhere, was not right. She
was poised to act but lay motionless, allowing her razor sharp senses full
rein. The warrior perceived no immediate threats in or around their tent, and
did not detect any movement other than the steady patter of spring rain against
the roof, making her glad that they had a warm, dry place to shelter in. She
gave up after several long moments of cautious scrutiny and rolled onto her
side to gaze at Gabrielle in the dim light. The warrior mused over the fact
that she could easily be lying here with the bed permanently cold and empty
beside her. Although more likely she would have already taken her own life in
order to join Gabrielle on the other side. Adwen had admonished her to count
her blessings, and no matter which way or how she examined the many facets of
her life, her blessings always added up to one. Gabrielle.

The
Bard began moving restlessly in her sleep and Xena lit a candle, kneeling by
her side. The warrior felt her forehead and although Gabrielle felt warmer than
she normally would, there wasn’t any raging fever, much to Xena’s relief. She
stroked the Bard’s hair, who seemed to quiet at her touch.

“Good,
I think my patient is going to make a full recovery,” the warrior replied.
“How’s the pain?”

The
Bard shifted her body and moaned. “Great, if you like lots of it.”

“Eat
a little soup and I’ll give you another dose of something to help with that,”
she coaxed.

“I
hate the way that stuff makes me feel,” Gabrielle groused. The warrior could
only smile. Her Bard was excellent at caring for others who were sick or
injured, but was notoriously cranky when she was helpless and on the receiving
end.

Xena
ignored her comment and walked across the tent to a covered crock sitting on a
brazier that Adwen had brought earlier. She ladled a bowl full of the hearty
looking broth, returning to kneel beside the Bard. “If you follow the doctors
orders, you’ll heal quickly, and won’t need to take the herbs for long.”

“What
are the doctors orders?” Gabrielle asked suspiciously, inching herself into an
upright position. She held a protective hand over the bandaged wound to her
side, which felt as if it were on fire.

“Rest,
don’t aggravate your injuries and do everything I tell you,” Xena said,piling several pillows behind the Bard with
her spare hand.

Gabrielle’s
injured leg shifted before she could give the tart reply she’d intended.
“Aphrodite!” she exclaimed, tears springing unbidden to her eyes.

Xena
bit her lip in frustration as her friend lay panting in agony, and hit the
pressure point again, knowing that at least she could provide some temporary
relief. If the warrior could have, she would have willingly endured this
suffering for Gabrielle. She knew from experience that it would be days before
her pain began to subside.

“Do
you need help?” Xena asked, holding out the bowl.

The
Bard’s eyes had cleared a bit as the fog of her agony receded. “I don’t know if
I feel up to eating,” she mumbled.

“You’ve
got to,” the warrior replied obstinately. She swished the spoon around in the
bowl, filled with broth, and held it in front of the recalcitrant Bard’s mouth.

Gabrielle
reluctantly took the mouthful Xena offered and then reached for the bowl. “I’ll
eat, I’ll eat,” she said. As exhausted and achy as she felt, there was no way
that she was going to suffer the indignity of being fed by someone else, even
if that someone was Xena.

“That’s
what I like to hear,” the warrior replied, carefully handing over the bowl.

“It
actually tastes pretty good,” the Bard said, taking a much less reluctant sip
of the broth from the bowl.

Xena
smiled. “I might try some myself,” she said, standing with a stretch.

She
paused, frowning, at the faint sound of a horse whinnying and the reverberation
of many hooves, sounding almost like a stampede. It was audible to Gabrielle as
well, who looked at Xena in askance.

“That’s
what woke me,”Xena said, grabbing her
sword.

“What?”
Gabrielle asked, setting her bowl aside.

“The
horses!” Xena exclaimed, rushing towards the tent door.

The
Bard winced as she shifted her leg in an attempt to sit up further. “Will you
please tell me what’s going on?”

“Something’s
wrong with the horses,” the warrior replied. She didn’t even pause to don her
armor or grab her chakram before charging, sword in hand, outside and into the
rain.

Now
what in Tartarus am I supposed to do if someone discovers me lying in this
tent, incapacitated by my injuries,
the Bard wondered. She suddenly felt more defenseless than she had at any time
previously in her life, and began scanning the tent for her weapons. The simple
irony, that she was now trying to get her hands on her weapons, when not quite
a day ago she wasn’t sure if she could even use them again, did not escape her.
It might actually have been funny, had she not felt so awful and been so
worried about her own safety. The Bard was eyeing her staff, which she’d
spotted leaning tantalizingly on the far side of the wall, when the tent
flapped opened, startling her.

“Xena!
You’re back!” Gabrielle exclaimed in obvious relief.

The warrior entered and stood, just inside the door,
dripping rainwater. She gave Gabrielle an odd look until the reason for her
reaction dawned on her. “I made you a promise earlier that we’re not splitting
up,” she stated.

“When you ran out like that, I didn’t know what to think
and I couldn’t reach my weapons…” the Bard said, sounding more resentful than
she’d intended.

Xena
bowed her head a moment, ashamed that she had caused the Bard to think that
she’d charged off again, leaving her alone and unarmed in this vulnerable,
wounded state. “I’m sorry,” she replied. “I didn’t think about how running out
would look to you.”

“I just sent our sentries to find that out,” she replied,
grabbing a linen and drying her sword. “From what I could tell, someone’s
driven off the horses or stolen some. I told them to make sure that Adwen knew
and then return to let me know what they discover.”

The
exhausted Bard leaned back against the pillows. “So you’re staying here?” she
asked hesitantly.

“I’m
not leaving you again,” Xena said, laying aside her sword and walking over to
Gabrielle. ”Do you remember Tripolis?” she asked, kneeling and taking the Bards
hand.

“With
the Persians?”

Xena
nodded.

“I
remember most of it.”

“I
told you then that I was through paying for my past, that you were my true
responsibility and I meant it, ” the warrior said quietly. “Do you remember
that?”

“Of
course.”

“Today I almost learned a horrible lesson about what
happens when I forget that. I won’t forget it again.”

“That day in Tripolis, you also said that I was your
source and I’d always meant to ask exactly what you meant by that.”

The
warrior looked perplexed. “How so?” she asked.

“Did
you mean your source of strength, source of irritation or source of something
else all together?” Gabrielle asked, trying to remove the worry from Xena’s
face.

“If
you weren’t completely incapacitated, I’d make you pay for that,” Xena replied,
leaning close to kiss her.

“Careful,”
Gabrielle warned her.

“What
is it?” the warrior asked, pausing mid-way.

“Even
my lips hurt,” she replied with a sorrowful quirk of her eyebrows.

Gabrielle
closed her eyes, able to surrender to her body’s demand for sleep as long as
Xena was there.

xxxxxxx

The
sound of low murmuring voices brought Gabrielle to awareness, her wounds
throbbing as she tried to move and found her entire body had stiffened up over
night. Her other needs made themselves known as well as she blinked around,
noting that it was lighter outside but that the rain still pattered away on the
roof.

Xena
and Adwen sat talking at the small camp table as the warrior ate.

Adwen
sipped from his wine. “Good-riddance to them if you ask me.”

The warrior finished chewing. “As long as they don’t
turn up later, looking for vengeance,” she replied. With the price on their
heads in Rome, she knew that her concern was very real and with Gabrielle
incapacitated, they were at their most vulnerable.

“I’ve
got more men out scouring the area, than I have herders watching the sheep!” he
exclaimed. “I tell you they’ve left.”

Xena
choked on a sip from her cup. “Don’t take this negatively, but if nothing else,
I’ve learned that herdsmen don’t necessarily adapt well to being scouts or
soldiers.”

Adwen
looked hurt. “That’s because they’ve had no real training… they certainly
rounded up most of the horses as fast as you please,” he stated.

“My
point exactly, Adwen. They’re good herdsmen,” she said. “But if you want
protection then you have to hire swordsmen.”

He
stroked his broad mustache in agitation.

“Just
be thankful that no one was killed or injured when they escaped,” Xena said,
picking up another piece of lamb, and waving it at him in emphasis before
popping it in her mouth.

“The
Roman’s escaped?” Gabrielle asked, sitting up as best as she could.

“She’s
awake,” Adwen stated. He leapt up and walked over, standing to gaze down at her
in bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Like
Tartarus,” she replied. “I feel like it and I’m sure that I look like it.”

Xena
came over and stood beside Adwen. “I’m warning you, she’s especially charming
when she’s not feeling well,” she muttered, kneeling to hand the Bard a skin of
water. “Drink up please?”

Gabrielle
tetchily obliged her with a couple of swallows from the skin and paused. “Tell
me what happened.”

“The
horses were a diversion. Apparently while Adwen and his men were chasing them
down, someone else liberated our Roman guests,” the warrior stated, her gaze
grim.

“Do
you think they’re coming back?” the Bard asked, taking a few more swallows of
water.

“I
honestly don’t know,” Xena replied. “I do know you shouldn’t worry about it. I
want you to concentrate on getting better.”

“I’m
actually a little hungry,” Gabrielle said, looking hopefully at the table as
the scent of roast meat made her stomach growl.

“That’s
a good sign,” Xena said, and couldn’t help but smirk. “Once you eat, maybe
Adwen can arrange a bath for us, so that we can get cleaned up and change your
dressings.”

“You
don’t want her getting those wounds wet,” Adwen admonished.

“Of
course not,” Xena replied sardonically. “We’ll work that out.”

Gabrielle
glanced at Adwen. “I’m going to need to… um… very soon, to ah…” she looked at
the warrior for assistance.

Xena’s
eyes went wide and she grabbed Adwen’s arm. “Time to go, Adwen,” she said,
hustling him to the door.

“But…”

“No
buts, go,” she ordered, forcing him outside. “Come see us again when you’ve got
our bath ready.”